


Missing

by UlisaBarbic



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Future ChiChi Needs A Hug, Future Trunks Briefs Timeline, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Loss of Control, loss of family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlisaBarbic/pseuds/UlisaBarbic
Summary: Future Trunks has been through a lot. But all too often, another victim is forgotten. Chi Chi. She had lost so much. But the thing she misses the most is so simple...
Relationships: Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Missing

It was a simple plot. No real landmarks to speak of, save the large apple tree that rose over it. ChiChi used to smile and run her hands down the trunk, darting around it and pretending to hide from Goku even though she knew he could always sense her. Sometimes, she would climb up into the branches and linger there, silent as a mouse until Goku would“give up” and she’d drop down onto his back, burying her face into his hair. That sweet musky odor would flood her senses and she let him twirl her around until they stumbled onto the ground and landed in a tangled pile of limbs.

After Gohan had been born, it became a habit to venture here and have their picnics. Throwing themselves into the green clover and laugh as Gohan would chase the butterflies around. As he got older, he’d come back with a crown made of flowers. And once he learned to climb, those apples would be Thorin’s down amid, “Pies, Mommy?” And her Goku would rest his chin on her shoulder and singsong “Yeah, pies, Mommy?” Laughing, she’d agreed provided she could find “helpers” to supply her with enough apples. They’d gone home with baskets upon baskets full and ate pies until Gohan looked more chipmunk than boy. Goku had squealed the entire time and pouted like a child when they were empty. 

On rainy but pleasant days, they’d take shelter by the old tree and cuddle under the warm furry blankets. Usually, it would end with a chase through the rain that left everyone soaked down to the bone but the hot chocolate and tea waiting back home more than made up for it. ChiChi suspected Goku created those chases on purpose. Not that anyone minded.

This place was full of memories.

When Goku had passed, there was no other place she could have buried his ashes. 

It no longer carried that comfort for ChiChi and the only thing she could say was that at least, for some reason, the Androids had yet to find this place. The other areas of the mountain, while still clinging to life, had the remains of the Androids little guts of fancy—blast marks, destroyed homes of animals, collapsed water sources. Even their home had been attacked. It wasn’t deemed important to those monsters so she had been able to rebuild but she remembered all too well that day. Her son, barely nine at the time, grabbing her and tearing out the door. The flames from the explosion had warmed her face and they’d been showered by stone and rubble. Rebuild they could, yes but it had driven a spike of fear in her heart of losing what little she still had that never truly went away.

But here, for whatever blessed reason, remained intact. It was unscarred for the most part. A little oasis to pretend the world had not gone to hell. 

Sitting in front of the plot, as had become her daily routine, ChiChi laid her face to the ground, watering the tree with her tears as she always did. She never came with such an intent but it always followed. She had accepted it as such and just allowed whatever would happen to happen. Tranquility was hard to grasp in this world so one learned to grasp it where you could. 

“Hello Goku, it’s me again. I hope you aren’t getting sick from hearing from me. It just...helps. I hope it doesn’t pull you away from trainin’. Bet you’re puttin’ all those other dead folk to shame! Throw a good right hook in for me!” 

She was sure that was what he was doing. Showing everyone what true devotion looked like. What a true martial artist looked like. Oh, she smiled, a long grin of pride, just thinking about it!

Her eyes drifted to the left though. Perched next to the familiar plot, was now a new one. Freshly dug and with the flowers on it still blooming. Her hands shook as she traced her hands over the marker. The world had already, unfairly, taken her Goku. 

Now, it had taken her son too.

Fear, pain and hopelessness broke from her throat. “You’re taking care of him, aren’t you, Goku? I know you must be. He looked...peaceful. You came for him, didn’t you?” Wiping at her soaked cheeks, smearing dirt under her eyes, she shook her head. “Of course you did. You...always came for us.”

She’d cursed Bulma when she’d called her. When she arrived to see that the woman hadn’t been lying—that her Gohan was lying cold and dead—she’d whirled on Trunks, said some...well, horrific things once her grief madness had passed. She was pretty sure some of it had been “why wasn’t it you?!” Not something any child should have to hear but...why HER child?

Hadn’t she already lost enough?

Her nails had cracked from clawing at the floor and her vocals had torn from how hard she’d screamed. She didn’t even full remember what happened but she’d woken up in one of the beds at Capsule Corp with her bleary eyed father by her side.

They’d buried Gohan next to his father last week. 

Licking her dry lips, ChiChi spoke again. “I wish we were here together but at least you two are together again.” Yes, think of that! Oh, how much her Gohan had missed him. He’d arrived one moment too late to say goodbye a d that regret had never left him. When he’d told her when he was ten, clothed in a gi reminiscent of his father’s that he intended to not give the Androids another inch, that he meant to make them fight for every inch, she’d cling to him for only a moment, shaking. She knew there was no talking him out of it. He had his father’s heart. 

Ironically, she thought, the same thing that killed your father. Different ways but death all the same. 

She choked “I wish that..I...”

She ran her hand over the marker for her son and lingered on her husband’s. There was so much to say and she never had the words for it. 

“Gohan, don’t you be giving your father an guff. I’m sure he’s going to be spoiling you but don’t take advantage of it!” Picturing his smile, the deep joy in his dark eyes at seeing his father again, she felt a stab of jealousy in her heart. She pushed it down. “Tell the others I say hello and that we’re ...doing what we can here.” Sighing, she said, “I wish we could do more.” She’d considered, rather seriously, taking Goku’s power pole and rushing after the Androids herself the day she laid Gohan in the ground. After all, she reasoned, what did she have to lose?

Her father’s pleading of how heartbroken Goku and Gohan would be if they saw her cross into the Other World was the only thing that stopped her.

When she’d heard of Bulma’s plan of time travel, her heart had skipped a beat until she realized that it would change nothing here. It would create another world. Another timeline. There would be another ChiChi that would keep her husband and son.

She envied, hated and celebrated for that Other-Her. Oh, to see Gohan get married, have children. To maybe get grandchildren. To see his face full of joy and not stretched taut with worry, fear and responsibility.

And...to have her Goku back!

She still dreamed about his kisses —the ones they would only exchange in private. The way he’d laugh when she pouted just to make her smile. The way they’d tickle one another in the privacy of their room. His reassurance of “It’ll be just fine, Chi!” The way he’d come to her, almost like a wounded dog anytime they’d fight. The way she’d surrender to him and him to her whenever they made love. The way he’d just let her lay against her on the couch.

All gone. All taken from her, so unfairly. So utterly unfairly. 

Her childhood, when she’d met him the first time. When she’d first drowned in his eyes. When she’d sought him out to find he had only become more amazing over the years. The first she’d kissed him and he’d kissed her back.

But she missed his laugh. The sharp twang of his accent against her ear. His silly grin as he drug her outside and jumped into the lake, ter wrapped in his arms. The way he’d pull her into the air and are never once feared falling. The way he’d sit and listen to her talk about cooking for hours with a smile on his face because it made HER happy.

Lying her head against the stone, tears blurring her vision, she whispered,

“I miss my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Could be considered a companion to my story “I Don’t Quite Remember”


End file.
